Fading

I had another birthday, about a week ago
I woke up from a sweet dream,
unlike the nightmares I normally have.
In the lavender bathroom I saw my Bubbie
staring back at me from the mirror.
She was gentle and sweet, and I love her, but she was really old
like i looked that morning,
or she did
It's strange and disconcerting to see the progression of time etched upon your face
the face
that holds the innocence and confusion of a person
still
trying to figure out what she is supposed to be doing here
in this place
of beauty and horror
of gravity and time
it's not about what do I want to be when I grow up,
because it can't be
i will never grow up
and i am already old
I know
because I see her whithered face staring back at me in the mirror